Persuasion
by Lady Catkin
Summary: Rassilon has the full support of the High Council, but not his own military who will only obey their Commander. Now he will stop at nothing to regain full control of his military during these dark days of war, no matter what the cost...


Iz's head buzzed and swam like she was drunk, a sensation she hadn't felt since before the war. It therefore had taken her by surprise and her usual composure was now non-existent.

Her vision was blurred and the sounds around her seemed both rhythmic and far away.

She wanted to shake her head to try and somehow kick-start her senses, but she found that every muscle resisted.

She felt sick and disorientated, she couldn't move, apart from blinking and breathing, but none of that helped. Her vision was something she desperately wanted back now to figure out just what the hell was going on.

Was this some crazy dream? Had she been injured in combat? But she wasn't on active duty at the moment; she was in the war rooms, deep beneath the Panoptican. She remembered getting ratty and tired with the endless arguments that kept breaking out between her and the High Council's appointed war committee.

One of them had suggested that she should simply listen to the sage wisdom of their 'new' president, to which Iz had reacted to by screaming several expletives at them and storming off.

She had been asleep as soon as her head had hit the pillow. She hadn't slept for days so therefore had no room for allowing her angry thoughts to keep her from sleeping.

There had just been too much for her to do and to oversee. War was a distinctly horrible business and despite war being something that should be well within the remit of her role, she still despised it. How could anyone possibly get used to sending so many people, people she knew, people she had even trained herself, to their deaths? To fight in battles that she had identified personally as being tactically advantageous with a minimum loss.

But things back home had begun to fall apart with the kidnap and murder of Romana, the only president she recognised. She had tried to control the High Council as best she could, but they had turned on her quickly, as she had expected them to. They had not recognised her as being the next in line as temporary ruler until the next president could be elected.

The only reason they hadn't assassinated her was because she had the loyalty of the army and they knew it. She knew it too and it was the only thing she could think of that kept her alive and the only thing that meant there was someone with a conscience still in control.

Then there was the _abomination_ they had elected secretly as their new president.

Even now in her bewildered state it made her sick to think of him.

Her paralysis was not leaving her, but her hearing was recovering slightly. She could work out that there were voices, all laughing and chattering, several of them, maybe a hundred, possibly more. It had the ambient sound of a club, some sort of social gathering. Music was deftly playing somewhere on the periphery of the noise, it sounded like a band maybe. Piano? Drums? Trumpets? She couldn't be sure, but there was certainly music.

She had no sense of direction without her sight, but through the blur, she could see twinkling lights and passing shadows which she presumed to be people.

Then touch, someone had laid a large warm hand over hers; her hand was now sandwiched between a hard surface covered in fabric, maybe cotton, and warm appendage.

She could start to feel different parts of her skin become alive and begin to deliver reports of sensations to her brain.

She felt warm air move past the skin on her bare arms and back, like the air that moved in the wake of someone passing her.

Her eye sight was still blurry, so relying on her other senses was all she could do, despite the fog still clouding her mind.

Her sense of smell delivered very little and she wondered if that had been impeded too. Then she wondered why in the name of great Ao someone would block out her sense of smell? She almost felt amused by it.

"Come on now my dear, come round, people are going to start to stare" came a voice from close by, maybe a couple of feet away? Was it the voice that owned the hand that covered hers? It squeezed her hand now.

"Come on darling" it coaxed gently "You should be able to see by now" it continued.

The voice was familiar.

It was certainly a male voice, slick and velvety with the gently commanding presence that warmed her from the inside out. Even then, it somehow managed to increase her nausea.

She took in a sharp breath as her head spun even more.

In a moment, she could feel the hand leave hers and now feel it on the bare flesh of her neck and shoulders. It was caressing her skin, making goose flesh appear on the surface of her ivory flesh.

She wanted to shudder as she felt the voice right next to her ear, the lips against it whispering to her.

"Come round darling" he urged "come round" he breathed, nipping gently with his teeth at her lobe.

She took another sharp breath now, being more and more aware of what was going on around her, but she still couldn't move. Or talk. Or see.

The frustration that she could not voice was overwhelming, but she couldn't do a thing about it.

The owner of the voice began to gently kiss the line of her jaw down to her chin and then took her lips with his.

"Come on darling, come back to me" he murmured softly against her lips.

Her vision was starting to come back now; the blur of light and dark had begun to merge into barely coherent things. Then the things became identifiable shapes – a table, a candle, champagne flutes, silver cutlery, people dressed in evening attire – all smiles and laughter.

She could not control even the muscles in her face in order to visibly demonstrate her confusion.

Her breathing became more even now as her mind tried to put the pieces together to create a picture that made sense.

"You're with me at last" came the voice from a slight distance away.

"Look at me" he commanded gently.

Her body obeyed him and she turned to face this man at last.

His face was instantly familiar to her, making her eyes widen in complete and utter horror.

Rassilon.

Her breathing quickened and her hearts thumped rapidly in her chest.

Her mind was screaming in horror, but there was absolutely nothing she could do the translate this to her body. She could breathe and blink, but that was it. He had somehow rendered her utterly defenceless to him.

How? How could this happen? She was one of the most powerful psychic's on Gallifrey, how had he overcome her with such ease? Was this a dream? A twisted, terrible dream?

"I'm sure you want answers to what you are experiencing, Commander, but…" his elegant voice trailed off as his fingers traced their way up her bare arm "I can give you them in time".

He was sat next to her, his body turned in towards her. His eyes were greedily devouring every inch of her and she cringed inwardly as he did so.

She could control her thoughts, that was something, surely.

She began trying furiously to somehow reconnect her brain with her body, to just regain some sort of control. Her breath quickened and her eyes widened as she tried hard to move some small part of her.

"Don't try to resist, Izsterlia" he said gently, leaning in once more to her ear and then finding her lips again. Her eyes shut automatically, like they were cargo bay doors and someone had flipped the switch to close them. Her mouth responded to his, completely out of her control and to her utter inward revulsion.

He drank deeply from her mouth, licking and exploring her mouth with his tongue. Her own responding to his with great fervour.

Her mind was alive with screams of opposition to his control of her, she wanted to push him away, toss him to the ground and kick him in the head until he stopped moving.

Instead, he commanded every part of her, seemingly with complete ease. He could command her body to satisfy his every whim. Her mind was blocked from control of her own physical presence, like an impenetrable blockade had been raised and she was feebly beating against it.

He pulled away from her mouth, his lips damp and swollen and his eyes flashing with smug satisfaction and barely contained desire.

A tear had broken through the barricade and slipped freely down her cheek.

"Oh Izsterlia" he drawled, eying her with wonder now, as though she was some priceless jewel.

"You have no idea how long I have waited to do that to you" he breathed.

'_And the only way it was ever going to happen was by taking it from me by force!'_ she replied angrily in her mind.

"You are so beautiful Izsterlia, as perfect and as flawless as the day we first met" he said, his voice hot and sensual in her ear once more.

"Do you remember that day? I couldn't keep my eyes off you and all the while, you were too interested in_ him _though to even notice me. I have never understood your fascination with _him_ you know" he said, moving to her neck and greedily tasting the flesh there.

'_HE being my husband!' _she yelled from the prison of her mind, followed by a tirade of insults that were volleyed at him in utter futility.

"Izsterlia" he said, breathing in her scent from the curve of her shoulder "We need to talk about the _now_ though my dear".

He raised his eyes to hers now, not missing the obvious resentment and hatred now emanating from them.

'_Give me my voice back, you sick bastard, and I'll talk to you, don't you worry!' _ she responded inwardly.

"We're at war" he soothed in his mellow, sumptuous voice.

"Not just the Time Lords, I mean you and I" he continued.

"You see Izsterlia, we are weaker divided, but _together_, we could become an indestructible force. The High Council brought me back for _reason_. I can make a difference, but I need you to stop ignoring me and resisting me. We need to combine our forces and finish this war – to victory".

He paused, seeing nothing but utter loathing in her eyes, and reached for a flute filled with champagne from the table.

He looked around the room for a moment, as if to allow his words to sink in for her.

The room was full of people, all chatting and moving between the tables that were all as beautifully laid out as their own. Their fellow guests were all glamorously attired, the ladies were dripping in exquisite diamonds and the men were perfectly turned out. It wreaked of wealth and status. The sort of venue that only the cream of society had the pleasure of attending.

Izsterlia's mind was too busy turning over his words.

'_The deluded, evil, sick, deranged mad man!' _was all that streamed from her consciousness.

Her eyes looked at him, watching every movement.

His arm was possessively around her waist, but he was now facing away from her. He was watching the people chat and disappear into shadowy corners together, whilst he sipped champagne.

They must be on Earth, possibly during the early part of the twentieth century, she reasoned, but remained unsure. Human fashion repeated itself constantly, so it was never a certainty as to what time frame one could be in without checking.

He placed his empty glass carefully back onto the table and turned his attention back to her.

"Look at you" he said "the most beautiful creature in the entire room and here am I, keeping you all to myself" he leaned forwards, kissing her mouth once more.

He tightened his grip around her waist as his tongue once more dipped inside her mouth.

Her mind was in turmoil. She screamed and yelled incessantly. She was helpless and so completely and utterly devastated by the fact she could not resist anything he did to her.

'_I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you! I hate you!'_ was all that she could think of now.

He pulled back and lifted her left hand to his lips and he kissed the back of her fingers softly and slowly.

Her head turned on command to watch him, knowing full well there was a reason for it.

The reason quickly dawned on her and made the revulsion and anguish she already felt step up a level.

He kept his mouth to her hand, but his eyes were watching hers to gauge her reaction, which simply involved her widening her eyes even further.

Her rings were gone.

Only a pale indentation on the ring finger from where they had once sat, gave testament to them ever being there.

Her hearts sank in her chest and she wanted to cry. She had never removed her wedding ring since it was placed on her finger the day she married. She had even asked her new husband on their wedding day to replace the engagement ring onto her finger so that she knew that it was only him that had put them there.

'_I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you'_ kept endlessly pouring from her as her complete and all-consuming rage mounted.

As soon as he saw her eyes reflect her reaction, he grinned with utter depraved satisfaction.

"My darling, you are mine now. You no longer require cheap baubles to remind you of your naïvely made commitments" he said, through the huge evil grin now plastered across his handsome face.

The rage within her was mounting like the swell of a sea in an almighty storm. Her whole being was desperately fighting to regain some control of herself, but the rage inside her simply resulted in her eyes widening, her two hearts pounding so loud she could hear the blood thumping through her ears and her breathing was becoming hard and ragged.

He stood slowly, now enveloping her pale hand in his, helping her to feet.

Her feet began to move her body in the direction he was leading her.

She moved past the other people, lost in her thoughts. It clearly didn't matter if she paid attention to where she was going or not, he had somehow gained control of every single movement.

She did not register the mixture of envious and admiring looks from those around her. Her eyes were pinned to the back of his head, watching him whilst her mind rolled and raged.

He paused in front of a huge pillar covered in mirrored panels.

Her body turned to face it, giving her eyes little choice than to look at the reflection.

He stood behind her, sweeping a hand through his black hair.

"Look at how beautiful you are" he said, kissing the soft curve of her shoulder that lead to her neck.

She observed her appearance with little interest.

She was certainly no longer in her uniform.

She wore a very low cut black dress that shimmered and sparkled in the subdued light of the room. It had no straps to hold it up; instead it appeared to be held up by little more than her bust, which was pushed up and out by some incredibly uncomfortable underwear.

Her skin crawled at the thought of him dressing her and hoped desperately that he had assigned that particular task to someone else who had no interest in her _like that._

The dress fell to just above her toes, which were jammed into some insanely high shoes.

Her neck was encircled by a group of dazzling diamonds that glinted spectacularly. The same diamonds dripped heavily from her ears, making her almost luminescent.

Her make-up was as perfect and as elegant as her hair, which had been swept up into a sophisticated up-do.

To all who looked at her, she looked absolutely stunning, to her, she looked ridiculous and excessive.

The very vision of Rassilon's terrible idea of what a woman should look like.

She wanted to be sick.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and slid his fingers down to her pelvis, leaning in to kiss her neck once more.

"This is how it could be" he said breathlessly against her ear, his eyes looking at hers in the mirror.

"You and I, the leaders of our great people, together" his wicked grin sliding sickeningly across his dark features.

"We need to work together, we need to put aside our differences, for the betterment of our people" he said "Think of how great it would be, for the two of us to lead our people to victory over our enemy, we could bring so much to everything. Join with me" he cajoled in his velvety tones.

'_You crazy, deluded little man! I'm more likely to join the bloody Dalek's than you! Argh!' _ she responded from within the confines of her mind.

She narrowed her eyes in response to him, her intense hatred for him shining clearly.

"I see I'm not reaching you am I?" he chuckled.

'_Oh, do you think?'_

He slipped his hands upward, over her hips that were greatly exaggerated by the ridiculous dress, and rested just beneath her breasts.

"Perhaps we should dance? Something as lovely as you should be in full view of others. Just _think_, if you put aside your misconceptions of me, you would be in full view of everyone. You wouldn't be stuck in an office all day or training recruits on Karn. You would be my equal, my queen" he said eagerly.

'_You clearly do not have the slightest idea of who or what I am you stupid, ignorant, deranged ass!'_

He lead her to the dance floor, smugly taking her to the centre of it, knowingly all eyes were enviably on her, before beginning to whirl her about it.

'_Wait until I have my body back, I'm going to make you wish you were dead again!'_

The band shortly finished the quickly paced number that he had practically thrown her around the dance floor to, before adopting a slow, softly paced tune.

He brought her to him with relish, pressing her slender body against his and resting his cheek against her perfumed hair.

"I wonder if I have it wrong. I know how committed you are to your work, even before the war. You befriended the Shobogans and brought their rights in line with that of Time Lords. You are Over-Kithriarch of the entire planet, the director of the Celestial Intervention Agency, head of the military and hold the position of Castellan. I'm sure that all of those achievements and fancy titles are not exhaustive of all the talents you possess" he said quietly.

'_Yeah, you should see how easily I could snap a man's neck'_ her inner voice growled.

"Either way" he said, his voice changing into something just as ugly "you must stop leading some sort of separate government to me and mine. _The only real one_. You will relinquish your authority over the armed forces to me and all other authority you have. You will not divide this planet and you will not allow us to lose this war because you are still hung up on the previous presidents death" He snarled in a low, grating voice.

'_How DARE you!'_

"We are only close to victory if you stand down, Commander. The only way I can ensure your cooperation is to have you with me, by my side. I require your expertise. But –" he said, his voice changing into a dangerous laugh "I will quite happily dispense with you if needs be".

'_Try it'._

They moved silently to the music, allowing his words to sink in.

"You see, you have a clear choice my darling" he drawled against her raven hair "be mine and be a friend, an asset to Gallifrey, abandon yourself to me and allow the Time Lords victory or –" he spun them around gently "die".

This time her mind stayed silent.

For her, it was clear that she was the only one in any sort of rational control of a war that was already spinning wildly out of control.

Rassilon suddenly stopped, the music still playing - she felt him tense.

"What in the name of hell are you doing here?" she heard him snarl to someone or something behind her.

There were a few gasps and loud whispers from the other people on the dance floor, but she could not make out what they said.

The band even stopped playing and a tense atmosphere seemed to fill the glitzy room. All she could see was behind her, over Rassilon's shoulder. The people behind them, both sat and stood gaping at what was going on behind her.

"I think you're too late" she heard him say, as he pushed her from him, her feet obediently taking a step back.

He crushed his damp lips against hers, deepening the kiss instantly, her eyes shutting beyond her control once more. She sickeningly felt her mouth respond passionately to his and she felt one of his hands slide down her body to her rear.

She wanted to be sick in his mouth.

She heard over her head the familiar sound of a laser pistol being cocked.

"_Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Wife_" came the voice of her salvation and source of her immediate relief.

Rassilon pulled away from her, pushing her aside, but keeping her eyes closed.

"I abolished the concept of marriage millennia ago, so I certainly do not recognise your claim over _my_ Commander now!" he sarcastically replied, danger emanating from his voice.

"Things have changed Rassilon, get with the times" replied the other male voice that she knew so well.

"You have no idea what I am capable of" he retorted.

"You have no idea what _I_ am capable of Rassilon, so quit whilst you're under the delusion of being ahead" replied the other man, his voice dripping with barely subdued anger.

"Your so called _wife_ and I were having a discussion, Doctor, and I think we'd just come to understand each other" Rassilon said, the smile that must have been across his face helping form his words.

"You have kidnapped her, implanted a neural emitter to her brain stem and _forced yourself on her!_" the Doctor yelled. His voice was filled with wild anger, the sort that she felt in the pit of her stomach but had no possible way of demonstrating physically.

"You somehow think you have come to an understanding with her? You are mad, plain and simple" the Doctor spat "If she could move of her own accord, she would more than happily tell you this herself. You make me _sick_".

"Iz was right when she saw you after your reinstatement. You are an abomination!" he continued yelling, his voice moving closer to her, but off to one side. He must have been moving closer to Rassilon.

"Let her go" the Doctor growled, but Rassilon did not reply "last warning Rassilon".

Iz's eye's suddenly opened, but the scenery whooshed past her as her legs gave and she fell to the floor.

Her arms reached out instinctively to brace herself for the impact, but they shook too hard to make much of a difference and she fell into a heap on the dance floor.

She looked up to see Rassilon in his elegant black dinner suit stood close to her right hand side and stood directly in front of him, the gun pressed against Rassilon's forehead, stood the Doctor.

Her husband.

"J-Joh-Joh" she stammered breathlessly, trying to say her husband's name, but couldn't form the word.

The Doctor glanced down at her, fear and worry clear in his face.

With the butt of the weapon, he cracked Rassilon across the temple, sending him skittering backwards and into a now deserted table.

He reached his fingers up to the site of the blow and when they met the freely flowing blood, he simply grinned.

"Doctor" he said menacingly "she has no choice but to give into me. Like I said. You're too late"

He began to laugh, a sickening, rumbling noise that sliced through her.

"I _h-hate_ you" she managed despite shaking uncontrollably.

"That, my darling, is the very least of your worries" grinned Rassilon, his eyes gleaming with victory.

"You sick bast-" began the Doctor, taking a thumping step forwards, before cutting himself off when Iz screamed out in pain.

The scream rocked his core and his attention was instantly focused on her.

He quickly glanced back to Rassilon, who he was not surprised to see had vanished into thin air.

He came to her side in an instant, she was pale and hyperventilating on the floor, shaking and convulsing.

He knew this was the work of Rassilon. Using her to cause a distraction big enough to allow him to scurry off like the inherent coward he was.

The rage inside him was pushed aside for now. He would deal with Rassilon later. Now he had to focus on Iz and get her safe quickly.

He took his leather jacket off and wrapped her in it, and enclosed her in his arms.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry" he repeated, the emotion he had felt from the moment he had learnt that Rassilon had taken her flooded to the surface as he cradled his wife in his arms.

He rocked her back and forth, waiting for her shakes to subside.

The pain she was in and the shaking were side effects of the emitter being turned off. He would have to remove it from her later, until then, he had to keep her calm and warm to stop her body from going into shock.

It was becoming virtually impossible to keep her safe since the out-break of the war. Her duties had increased a hundred fold since it began and exponentially since the deaths of both the Chancellor and the President.

Soon she stilled and lay exhausted in his safe, warm embrace.

"I'm sorry" she said, tears slipping down her pallid cheeks.

"Don't be" he whispered through a comforting smile.

"He made me" she managed, her voice cracking to make way for a sob.

He cradled her close to him, his warm, comforting scent filling her mind and numbing everything. She reached out with her arms and wrapped them around his neck, clinging onto him. He was the only one she could ever be weak in front of, the only one she could let her guard down for. The only one who was allowed to see her raw and naked. He was the only one who could see her soul.

"I love you" she said as her sobs quietened.

"I love you too" he said quietly "I just wish I could keep you safe, I feel like I've failed you".

"You could never fail me" she said, more tears slipping from her gleaming eyes.

There was some movement behind them and his head shot up.

"We've got to go" he said and with that, he scooped her up easily in his arms and walked quickly towards the exit.

The familiar sound of his hearts beating filled her cloudy mind and lulled her to sleep quickly. She didn't register the change in temperatures as she was carried out of the building she was in, out into the cold night air and then into the tepid air of the TARDIS.

Nor did she feel herself being carried to the bedroom she shared with him when they were aboard the craft and being gently laid upon the bed. She also didn't feel her clothing removed and replaced by a comfortable nightdress, or her face softly cleaned and her hair undone and brushed out.

She did not feel how gently she has placed between the blankets of the soft bed or the gentle kiss laid against her cheek.

She also did not feel her hand being gently picked up and stroked soothingly by her watchful, devastated husband, whose own tears now slipped silently and un-witnessed as she slept.


End file.
